


Crabwatching

by Eriakit



Series: Saeri Verse [7]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Being Thirsty, F/M, Pining, Seduction, Underage - Freeform, i promised i'd tag this 'thirsty hoes with three toes', it would be mutual pining but she doesn't bother with that shit, the name is bad but its this or naming it that, the underage is technical and not by their race's standards but they are about 15/16 here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 17:23:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20855477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eriakit/pseuds/Eriakit
Summary: “A snake, indeed. So how’re you gonna get him, girl?”“Carefully.”





	Crabwatching

**Author's Note:**

> Fun facts: this is set just-pre-vanilla. Troll age of majority in my verse is "when they're big enough to kill someone"/usually around 14 (this does not stop teenagers from being idiots). The idiots in question are around 15/16 here. This was written like over a year ago. Za'tuli is a Zandalari because what I say goes and she and her mother got stuck on the Darkspear islands a while before the orcs came around.

Za’tuli saw him for the first time as a little girl, and thought nothing much of him. He was another of many children who were not her tribe, whose parents didn’t trust her, or her mother, and who were told to not play with her. Over the years she caught glimpses, as she and her mother did their best to aid their adoptive tribe, as they fought and bled and carved out a new home for themselves on Kalimdor, but she still only thought of him as another member of the tribe. But then he left, she didn’t know for how long and, truly, did not care, and when he came back he was…

He was. He was himself, catching her eye as entirely separate from the rest of the tribe. He was tall, so tall he seemed almost skeletal as he continued to grow into his height, but muscle played under his hide in a way that made her teeth buzz with the thought of biting down, that made her hands itch to feel the movement of it under that strange, Darkspear fur. He was more muted in color than many of the others, subtle shades of blue and grey all over, until he painted his face in a deathmask of black and white to spar with the others in the rings, and then his grey eyes shone silver in the darkness of it. He was graceful, and as the others trudged and blundered along he _glided_, sliding from shadow to shadow or along the tops of the walls like a panther, his movements holding her gaze as if he held her in thrall. He was silent as he moved and as he fought, quiet in his rage the few times anyone dared cross him, only ever making noise when he was happy. The lack of noise he made set her ears to twitching and she waited for each tiny, barely-there sound.

He made her blood boil and her breath hiss out of her every time she saw him. She would have him as hers or she would make a fool of herself trying, may the Loa witness her and guide her path.

Late one evening as she and her mother relaxed after their dinner, watching the youths spar, sand flying in every direction as they cackled and spat insults, Za’tuli turned to her mother and lifted her chin defiantly.

“I’ll have him.”

Zi’tanbi looked up from her idle carving of a raptor femur, absentmindedly smoothing her thumb over the geometric patterns she had carved as she raised her eyebrow at her only daughter. “Which? There’s a lot of troll down in those pits, girl.”

Za’tuli growled. As if there were any others she would consider. But she pointed to him, a grey shadow leaning against one of the walls, his warpaints even more haunting in the flickering light of the bonfires, his silver eyes locked onto the pair brawling in the pit in front of him with silent focus. 

Zi’tanbi’s other brow rose. “That one? I’d have thought you for one of the brutes, girl. That boy’s like a reed.”

Za’tuli shook her head, keeping her eyes on him as he slunk forward into the pit, tripping up one of the brawlers before fighting the other directly. “Not a reed, ma’da. A snake. Can’t you see the fangs?”

As if her words had called him to action, he stopped dancing around the bigger troll he was facing and struck, two quick blows to the brute’s ribs and then leaping away as the brute fell with a bellow and the catcalls of other onlookers. Her mother chuckled, nodding.

“A snake, indeed. So how’re you gonna get him, girl?”

Za’tuli grinned. “Carefully.”

Her mother’s chuckle turned into a cackle and Za’tuli sat back, thinking of how to catch his eye.

\---

Rakkal had always noticed her, of course. Za’tuli, the Zandalari girl. The daughter of the death-priestess. The girl with all the gold, who clicked when she moved and moved like she was dancing and sometimes talked to her _little loa, _or maybe just the air, but unnerved the other boys either way. She was impossible to _not_ notice, but she seemed especially hard to not-notice lately. It could be the paints she was now old enough to wear, so dark and attention catching on her bright green skin. Or maybe it was how she’d gotten even curvier during the year and a half he’d been away, even softer and chubbier, her hips wider and her breasts barely held in by the cloth she wrapped them up in when it was too hot for more clothing than that. Or it could’ve been how she was suddenly always _there,_ her twitchy little movements making gold flash in the corner of his eye, her laugh and the click of gold on gold making his head turn constantly to catch more of the sound.

It was going to drive him _insane._

On the hottest day of the year yet he took the shift absolutely no one wanted - watching over the stretch of beach to the north, where there was nothing more interesting than crabs and the rare makrura and even up in the tops of the palm trees it was hot enough to cook you at midday. Either the solitude would let him get the damn girl out of his head, or the heat and boredom would drive him crazy enough to try something with her, and then her mother would put him out of his misery for sniffing around her baby girl.

He huffed disparagingly at himself as he climbed into one of the trees, sprawling out on his belly once he was high enough his weight could bend it down some. As if he’d get close enough to sniff.

It was edging into the middle of the day and he was thinking unkind thoughts at himself for thinking this would help while eyeing the ocean longingly, when the root of all his current problems herself was suddenly there, darting down the beach from the village, kicking sand at crabs and cackling as they scattered, spinning again and again with each kick to keep her balance. Rakkal swallowed harshly. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her this bare - down to her piercings and collar and the cuffs on each limb, thin wraps of linen over her chest and a simple linen loincloth her only clothes. No extra necklaces or bracelets, no facepaints, no well-sewn silk or gold edges… she was just as gorgeous as ever.

She stopped not far from his tree, cackling and running in arches and circles from the angry crabs, apparently practicing her kicks and dodging. Watching her move made his blood heat and his heart race. He wanted to jump down and join her, to chase her through the surf, to be chased in return. He could see how much strength was packed into her frame, and enjoyed the contrast between the give and softness of her and how hard her legs struck the air on each kick. Her ears twitched even in the few moments she was still, and it made him realize he had fallen into being completely silent, as quiet as he was when he was waiting for the right moment to slit a throat or slip into an enemy camp. He cursed himself for lurking there and watching her like she was prey.

She wasn’t _anyone’s_ prey.

He made himself relax and consciously chose to let his foot slide and hit one of the palm fronds around him. Her head jerked up at the rattle of it in the still air and he smiled broadly when her eyes caught on his. He knew what he looked like sprawled up here, every inch lazy and admiring, and just hoped she wasn’t about to hex him and go tell her mother to send him on to meet Bwonsamdi personally.

She stared for a second, and his heart pounded harder in his chest as he waited. Then she straightened from the crouch she’d landed in after her last jump and walked towards his tree.

She tilted her head back as she came to a stop under him, amusement in the twist of her mouth and the lift of her brow. Rakkal let himself relax a little, trusting she at least wouldn’t kill him outright. He twisted on the tree to sit upright, holding on with just one hand and the bend of a knee as the other leg dangled and he waved with his free hand. She was faster to speak than he was.

“Did I interrupt your crabwatching?

He swung his foot idly as she leaned against the trunk of his tree. “In the _best_ possible way, Za’tuli.”

She chuckled at him. “Sweet-talker.” He could’ve sworn her eyes sparked at him as she grinned wide around her tusks. “But are you all talk?”

He rumbled quietly in the back of his throat, but she seemed to hear it and returned the sound with an interested hum. He relaxed his grip on the tree and leaned back to slide down the trunk. She didn’t move, and when his feet landed in the sand he was toe to toe with her, barely any space between their bodies. He bent forward, looming over her teasingly, and tapped one of his tusks against hers.

“Why would you take my word for if I am or not? I could lie.”

Her lips curled back from her teeth and her reply was more growl than words. “I’ll have to find out for myself, then, won’t I?”

He bumped his nose against hers, their tusks dragging against each other with the movement and making them both shiver with the vibration it caused. “I’m all yours, Za’tuli.” He paused, then took a step back, the hot air of the day seeming cold after the heat that had built up between them. He winked at her confused frown. “After my watch.”

He climbed back up the tree before she’d stopped blinking in surprise, and cackled when she collected herself enough to kick the tree he was once again sitting on. The hit was hard enough to almost unseat him, and he laughed all the louder for thinking about what might be in his near future with all that strength.

“Ass!” she shrieked, half-angry and half-laughing with him. “You are going to pay for that, Rakkal!”

He sprawled out again and grinned wickedly down at her. “Am I, now? You that impatient, priestess? Can’t wait to get your claws on me?”

She glowered at him, but it was ruined by the grin she couldn’t quite keep under wraps. She gave up, and just shook her head at him. She started heading back to the water’s edge, and he was about to give up on the hope of a reply when she smirked back over her shoulder.

“Let’s see how long you can hold on to finishing your watch, Rakkal.”

And then she stripped off her clothes in a few quick movements and strode naked into the sea.

It was the longest watch Rakkal had ever taken.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'll probably be writing/posting a lot more of these two, because I like them and if Za'tuli were real she would terrify me.


End file.
